Morning Of The Reaping
The sun is just coming up, I can see it through the window. It bleeds through the thin glass in my room causing me to stir awake. I hate waking up. it's especially worse today, the Reaping.
I can hear my mother in the kitchen, cooking as my father speaks to her. His voice is softer than usual, probably so they don't wake me up, or just so I can't eavesdrop. I'm curious as to what they could be talking about, I figure it's about what they'll do if I end up getting reaped. I push off my thin, scratchy blanket, sitting up as I throw my legs off the hardly thicker mattress. My feet press into the cold wooden floors as I hesitantly stand up. I know I'm still not ready to stand but I also know I must get my day started.
The reaping starts at 2PM, but I know it's better to get ready earlier. If it was any other day I'd lay around procrastinating, but today is different. Part of me thinks if I was to be reaped I'd wished I laid down longer this morning, but hopefully that won't be the case.
I stumble over to my closet, trying to avoid the clothes I threw on the floor this last week. I have trouble cleaning up from time to time that really aggravates my mother. Sometimes I just find that I can't really help it, even if I'm truly embarrassed by it.
I grab a comb from the top of my dresser in my closet, running it through my blonde hair. I start at my ends, that are just above my hipbone, then move upward when the knots are gone there. I groan as I'm tugging at a knot, grunting in annoyance as it refuses to let up.
I hear a knock on my door before it's shortly opened. My eyes fall on my mother who is walking in, her face pulling a forced smile across it. "You alright, Lavinia?" She mutters softly, approaching me with an open hand.
Hesitantly, I nod, handing her the comb. "This knot won't budge," I huff, turning around to show her it.
My mother works her magic, ridding of the knot quicker than I'd ever be able to. She's great with hair, she used to work as a hairdresser before my father made her quit. Thanks to those skills I've been able to dye my hair sometimes, it's rare, I think I've done it three times these 18 years I've been in this world. There's still some faint pink streaks in my hair, actually.
I don't know if it's allowed, or where she learned it from since I haven't seen anyone in the Districts with colored hair. Part of me thinks she's been to the Capitol before -- since they always have their hair dyed there, -- but I figure that's impossible. Though that idea will always linger in my head.
"Thanks," I softly say, smiling fondly as I turn back around. My mother hands me back my comb, which I set back on my dresser.
We usually argue, if this was any other day I probably would've yelled at her the second she stepped in my room. But today we're playing nice, I can see it in her eyes that she wants to call me incompetent for being unable to do my own hair. She stays silent because there's the fear that the last morning I'll spend with her could begin with some snarky remark. At least the reaping gives me a soft morning with her once a year. Of course this will be the last year. If the reaping was maybe a week later, it wouldn't be. I'd be 19 by then. But the world sucks, so my birthday has to be on the usual days of the Hunger Games.
"Happy to help," She smiles back, with the look that she just reminded herself I could be sent to my death today.
I sigh, chewing my bottom lip as I try to think of what to say that doesn't end with me telling her I know she's not at all happy to help me. "Uh, did you lay anything out for me?"
My moms face flickers, trying to hide her aggravation. She composes herself with a deep breath. "I figured you'd find something nice for yourself, you are nineteen in a few days, after-all." She avoids a rude tone, but the way her nostrils flair make it clear she's not exactly trying hard enough to keep herself back.
Trying not to huff out a laugh at the fact she can't help but be mean even on a morning like this, I defend myself instead. "I just figured since it's my last reaping you might want me to wear something meaningful, I have something nice though if not."
She tries not to show the rage, but it's fully etched on her face now. "Find something nice, then."
I watch as my mother turns back around towards the door, slamming it shut after she'd left. I finally let out a scoff of disbelief, running a hand through my hair. I fixate my focus to my closet, figuring out what I could possibly wear. I have a nice, long pale yellow skirt with some thin white stripes over it. I don't have much dresses, so it seems logical to stick with that. I grab that along with a darker yellow shirt with short puffy sleeves, dressing myself in those.
I finally fix up my hair further, braiding two long front pieces to meet in the back. I can't see if it meets exactly in the middle, which the Peacekeepers wouldn't notice as much as my mom would. I shift it around, trying my best to avoid a scolding, but after sometime I can't be bothered.
I walk out of my room, pale white socks covering my feet from the dark brown wood beneath them. My father is watching our crappy TV, nothing is on so he must be trying to catch any announcements that the capital would stream. Usually he'd be chopping down trees, but not on a day like the reaping.
There's some eggs on the counter that I move toward, fixing my own plate neatly as my mother pretends not to watch me. I meet her eyes as she's searching the fridge. "Is there anything to drink in there?"
"No, we've got to go to the store later on." She speaks plainly.
I nod softly in acknowledgement, watching her stiffen. She's still pissed, might've heard me scoff once she left the room. I don't care much and head to our small dining table to eat as quickly as my stomach can handle, I can't stand to sit around her much longer today. I'm aware it'll suck further after the reaping, my safety will be guaranteed, which means she won't have to linger on every word she's said.
Once I'm finished, I lean over the couch to press a kiss to my fathers cheek. "I'm headed out,"
He offers a fond smile, not saying a word as I smile back and walk off. I slip some boots on, zipping them up before pressing into the door and twisting the knob to exit.
I plan to head to the market, hopeful to run into Eve Ellery. But it seems she was hopeful to run into me as well, since she's at the park across the street from my house, sitting on the swings and lazily letting her legs kick back and forth.
A smile pulls across my lips, mischievous as I decide to sneak up on her. But the mulch beneath my boots shifts and makes a crunching noise. I'm just behind her when she turns around with a soft gasp, followed by a fit of giggles as she realizes I failed at startling her.
"Jeez, you can't even spook me!" She teases, hopping off the swing and circling around to stand in front of me. "You'd be horrible in the games, I'd have volunteer if they pull your name."
She speaks as if she's joking, but she'd have far much more luck in the games than I ever would. She's stronger than me without a doubt, -- She does the work in her family, so she's usually down chopping wood rather than sleeping in bed like I do. In my defense, my dad refuses to let me work, even though it could raise my chances in the game. -- I'm sure she would volunteer if we're being honest. I've been told so at least. She has a younger brother that would need her here, so obviously I've told her not to do so. But if it came down to it, she would. I know that much. She's a good friend.
"Don't joke like that," I scold, looking down at her with a shake of my head. "Sam needs you, here. Not in that arena."
Eve rolls her eyes, grabbing my arm and dragging me towards the very worn down jungle-gym where we can't be seen by Peacekeepers. It's not the park that's watched by them, but we're better safer than sorry. "Listen," She begins, tucking a stray black hair behind her ear -- hair that used to be a dark coily brown -- "I can live in that arena, I know I could. You... I don't mean to offend, but you can hardly take care in the Districts. It would torture me to see you in that arena fighting for your life."
"Eve, Sam needs you--"
"Sam has you too." She sternly reminds me, gripping my arm to show that she's beginning to get irritated with this. "You and him even have me in common. If I don't survive, you could teach him things. You know more than you think."
I hesitate to speak again, so I keep my mouth shut. My face is etched with conflict, I can feel it as Eve's dark brown eyes narrow at me.
She huffs, starting again. "Let's... let's head to the shops, see how everyone's doing."
And we do just that. A lot of people are startled, especially the kids who are Sam's age. They're all freshly 12, their first year in the reaping. It's odd to be pulled on the first year, but we all know it isn't impossible. It's happened more often than anyone would like. That's been made clear long before now. It's the 58th reaping, so a bunch of small kids like them have been taken from their homes and sent on to die.
I try to wipe the dark thoughts from my brain, try not to think of how unfair the situation is. A twelve year old pitted against an eighteen year old, talk about rigged.
We move onto the markets, Eve buys us some jewelry like she does every year with the excuse of using them as tokens for the games. I think excitement fills all of her short body, I find it hard to find any sort of resentment or anything within her. She's a bit strict, but even in a situation where she could face death, she doesn't get upset. I envy how she can be so sure of herself yet so humble on the outside. She strides along with confidence that doesn't do much other than make my heart flutter.
I shove those lingering feelings down further, trying not to choke with the reminder that nothing would happen there.
We walk along for an hour or two. She pays for some snacks for us to chew on, refilling her stomach on a rip-off chocolate that I personally hate. I try to chew on some stale gummies she brought, but I have no appetite today.
I head back home with hesitance, walking into the now empty house. My parent's must've went to the market as well to grab some food. I move swiftly into my bedroom, grinning softly at the gummies before I shove them into my messy dresser.